White Horse Circle

Most of us have events that echo through the corridors of our lives. Thirty, forty, and fifty years later, it remains like a rhythm track beating at an intersection from a car seven cars ahead. Playing loud in the chain of stopped autos at the red light. You can’t make out the song, but you hear the beat. I have that sort of track inside me, and it emerged briefly to thump into action the other evening as I stepped out of the house into a downpour. It took an absent-minded moment for me to recall exactly what it was. The rain brought the memory back.

It was 1960, something. I was standing in the pouring rain in Hamilton Township, New Jersey, at the White Horse traffic circle. It was me, my soaked clothes, and a guitar. The guitar had extra clothes wrapped inside the case to keep it dry. I was praying for a ride.

Off to the north was the hazy glow of the nearest town, the lights reflecting off the heavy clouds.
Out of the night, a large black sedan full of African American Church ladies appeared. I heard one of them holler out to me, “Hurry in, there’s room for one more if we squeeze!” And squeeze we did all the way to Philadelphia.

They grilled me: Did my mother know where I was? What was I doing in the middle of nowhere, New Jersey, in a storm like this? They went on, but in such loving terms that I soon broke down in tears. Out came my life’s current romantic, financial, and existential crises off the rails.
Then a quiet voice asked: “May we pray for you?” and pray they did all through the dark, wet night from White Horse Circle on NJ 226 to North Philly. Letting me out where I could catch a train, I was told: “You’ve gotten prayed over good. Don’t forget, God loves you.”

OK, it wasn’t my tradition. I’m a Methodist escapee from a Catholic upbringing. But the rhythm and the memory keep returning, and I am in that car with those ladies praying for me. And, as I said, it’s like a powerful rhythm track. I can’t hear the words, but I feel the powerful beat. I am so grateful to those ladies; they prayed over me so well that all these years later, it’s still there.

Thank You.